


Five Questions

by TreeofStars



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Relationship Discussions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-04 23:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15157898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreeofStars/pseuds/TreeofStars
Summary: He relaxed into the mattress, his head propped up on one arm. “I want to know everything about you.”





	Five Questions

She grew tired of pretending to be asleep as he traced her body with one fingertip. As light as the touch was, it had still pulled her from sleep. Her head turned away from him, she did not move as he traced a multitude of shapes down her back and up her arms. His hand had stopped its motion now, the lone fingertip making small circles on her shoulder.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Not tired.” If he was surprised by her being awake, he didn’t let on.

“What are you thinking about?”

A small sigh. “You.”

She turned to face him. “What about me?”

The sunlight in the tent cast a warm glow on his face as he smiled. “Everything.”

“That’s a lot to think about.”

He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. “I’ve got time.”

“Do we?”

“Oh, yes, we do.” His lips captured hers, hinting at more than she was up for in the heat of the day.

She broke the connection playfully. “Too warm. Save that for later.”

“As you wish.”

“You want to narrow down your thoughts for me?”

He relaxed into the mattress, his head propped up on one arm. “I want to know everything about you.”

She laughed at that, a rich, throaty sound that she hadn’t heard from herself in too long. “A little mystery is good, Admiral.”

“Agreed. But you’re a big mystery.”

“You think so?”

He nodded, his free hand resuming a trail down her back.

“I don’t know about that. We’ve been through a lot, Bill. I’d say you know me pretty well.”

“The big things, yes. Your feelings on certain policies, how you handle the Quorum, your diplomatic approach to negotiations.”

She snorted in amusement. “What else do you want to know?”

“Little things. The things that don’t seem to matter in our lives anymore. Your favorite song. The first boy you ever kissed.”

“Trivial matters,” she added.

“Not to me,” he said, his eyes lost in hers.

She turned over, the thin sheet coming to rest in the middle of her chest. “You get five questions.”

“I’ve heard of Twenty Questions, not five.”

“Let’s preserve a little mystery, shall we?”

He nodded, game for the exercise. “Ok.” He thought for a long moment before tossing out his first query. “How old were you the first time you had sex?”

“Oh! It’s going to be  _those_  kind of questions,” she teased.

“Not necessarily.”

“I was seventeen.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Is that it?”

“That’s all you asked me.”

He shook his head. Ever the diplomat. “Fine. Next question. What is your favorite food?”

She winced. “No. Absolutely no questions about food. I’ve spent a long time training my mind not to think about all the things we can’t indulge in anymore.”

“Fair enough. What’s your favorite color?”

“Really? You want to waste a question on that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Fine. My answer is blue.” She gave him a wicked smile, which he returned.

“What did you like to do in your spare time?”

“Like a hobby?”

“Yeah.”

“I liked painting. And cooking. I was a hell of a cook, I’ll have you know.”

“I’d ask you your best dish, but you’ve set parameters.”

“Sometimes I wonder if those skills get lost from non-use. Like, would I remember what to do behind the wheel of a car?”

“If I was in the passenger seat, I’d sure hope so.”

She giggled. “You know what I mean. All those things we used to do every day without a thought. That’ll all be lost to time.”

“Not if we tell each other.”

“I see. So when I’m gone –presuming you outlive me, of course – you’re going to give everyone my Spicy Picon shrimp recipe?”

“And I’ll tell them your favorite color was blue.”

“Only two more questions, Admiral.”

“Okay. When you were a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?”

“A teacher.”

He frowned. “That’s a boring answer.”

“What? It’s the truth!”

“That one shouldn’t count.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t learn anything about you.”

“Sure you did. You learned that I followed my dreams and became a teacher, just like I wanted to.” Off his teasing glare, she relented. “Okay. We’ll scratch that one. But that’s it. No more passes.”

“Fine. Favorite sexual position?”

“You mean you don’t know that already?”

He chuckled. “Not a lot of room in here to get creative. It may be something we haven’t gotten to yet.”

She raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Actually, we haven’t.”

“Really…” He could not resist touching her, his hand following the hem of the sheet across her breasts.

She rose up on her elbows to get closer to him. “Later, when it’s not so hot, I’ll show you.”

She’d never heard a grown man whimper before. She laughed, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Last question, Admiral.”

“I’d like to save it. For another time of my choosing.”

She considered him. “Really. Hmmm. I suppose that’s allowed. Better be a good one.”

“Oh, it will be,” he promised.

*****

_Eighteen Months Later_

“That book had better be good today, Admiral. I think Cottle has it in for me.”

He smiles at her, her voice rougher and weaker than it used to be. She looks so small in the cot, tubes and wires of all sorts in a maze around her.

“It’s a classic. You’ll love it.” He sits down in the chair beside the bed, the book still clasped firmly in his lap.

“What?”

He watches her, considers her mood. “I have my fifth question.”

It takes her a moment to catch on, the memory of one lazy afternoon in her tent on New Caprica coming back in flashes. She nods, settling into the pillow behind her.

His hand finds hers, and she is surprised to note that he is trembling. She offers him a reassuring smile.

The question comes out in a whisper, a hushed rush of words that at the same time surprises and calms her. She grips his hand tightly. It is not a frivolous thing he has asked. It is not trivial. Perhaps to the rest of the fleet, but not to them.

He asks the one question he already knows the answer to, just so he can hear her say it.

And when she replies, tells him that  _he_  is the love of her life, it is with the same hushed tone. It surprises and calms him, and after a shared smile, he cracks open the book he has brought.


End file.
